It's A Concept
by Nightwingstar
Summary: I'm always the one in the flock who has so many names, such as, Womanizer, liability, pyro, blind kid, etc. But you know, there's more to that than what I show, hey I'll show you, just hear me out, k? Iggy POV
1. Chapter 1

It's like an Ig. Blog. Well, not really. It's more on an insight from us blind people. And seriously, I am legally blind, I just don't need one of thos sticks just yet. I can't read twelve font past 3 inches from my face, maybe a bit less.

So this Iggy's story, he'll give glimpses of the books, not often... or maybe often, it's an impulse story... but this guy is like me... you never know what's coming :D

**To My Goth Faerie:** Another Iggy story! Gaspeth! How's you life, haven't heard from you in a while... but you know what? No pairings in this one.

Enjoy!

Iggy P.O.V

* * *

_**Chapter 1 **_

* * *

It's a concept that darkness is my best friend and worst enemy. I see it more often than anything; in fact, it's the only thing I see. I miss sight. 

I wake up every morning to the same friendly darkness and go to sleep to it every night.

What a concept.

Every morning when I woke up I would brush my fingertips against my face, reassuring me where I was. I hated and loved my fingers. They were so calloused and worn from bomb making and hard work I've always hated them in fear that I would lose my sense of touch. But I love them so much because they tell me where I am and who someone is.

Being disabled gives you a double-edged sword everyday. I can love being blind, missing out on the sights of gore and misfortunes around me, and I can hate it because it heightens my ears and lets me hear failed experiment screams so much more so that anyone else that I wish I could hear only silence.

But then I remember that room. It was a room that was wide and heavily cemented. No vibration could make its way in and none could be made in it, even I could not budge a centimeter. And you know what? The silence was deafening.

Unable to see and trapped in the loudest silence known to anyone, I swear I would have gone mad because after a while I could no longer hear my thoughts that tried to tune out the droning silence.

But outside of that room, silence isn't so bad because there is no such thing as actual silence. There is always the whirr of the fan, the soft sounds of breathing, and the occasional shuffle made by someone adjusting themselves into a more comfortable position. There is always the soft and distant tapping of a bug, the distinct sound of the wind, and there are always, always, the familiar footsteps of the flock.

"How's it coming along, womanizer?" Max asked me softly, her heavy boots making contact with the floor in a specific pattern. Her right step was always a fourth shorter than her left, not to mention the way her pants made a swish sound because of her steps. I smiled softly, so Fang had told her, eh?

"Fine." I replied, waving my hand off to go away, in my ears it sounded like the whoosh of a metal bat.

"All right, just keep watching." Her footsteps retreated. Yeah, watching. There's so much irony about that.

What a concept.

The year that Jeb disappeared, I remember that summer. Fang was so silent I could hardly hear him breathe. And Max, cried when everyone had gone to bed. I would stay up for hours, just listening to her sobs. She had to be the leader, she had to be strong, and she had to play face. I didn't need to be blind to know that. Everyone was so silent the year that Jeb left that I almost felt like I was back in that room…

* * *

Mk, so the first chapter is short. And no previews and no challanges for this one. 

And you thought Iggy was only just a pyro, he's so much more sophisticacted than that! I mean what else does he have to do? Listen to paint dry?

Please Review

Adieu  
_**Nightwing**_


	2. Chapter 2

An introduction to a much hated OC. I dislike OC's but it doesn't mean I don't learn to like them. But this one... EVERYONE hates, he's a real life man... and I have to listen to him every year... he always says those damn things... I've gone mad just knowing him.

**To My Goth Faerie:** :sings: No body knows the trouble I see, there's no one here, beside me...

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_**Chapter 2 **_

* * *

I remember this man; he was the main white coat that 'took care' of me. He's the one who put me in that room. They called him Dinkles, I think… He had this baby face on a big fat body and his eyebrows were stained black and were always in an angry furrow. I say stained because his hair was pure white. He was always disappointed in me, not that I gave much to smile about, I bit him, kicked him and fought him all the time. He would always look at me and say, "What a shame." That was his favorite quote. 

Dinkles, whom I liked to call Dinky 'cause, you know, I can't pronounce things well when I'm three, had another favorite quote. Whenever I ran a maze or did something that required movement of my legs he would always complain into the intercom, his sneer apparent, "why would you walk when you could run?" I hated that 'cause I was running. That bastard.

As I said before, Dinky put me in that room. The silent room, the deaf zone, you name it, that's what it was. Dinky said it was the recovery room, that's where I went after surgery. They wanted to drive me mad. In a way I did go mad but in another way, it drew me the invisible line between insanity and genius.

The white coats gave me a sedative, something that kept my throat from making sound and my body from moving. It was a large dose, I remember that, it lasted me three and a half weeks or, at least, that's what the flock told me. I lost track of time in that room. They didn't feed me, nor did they check in… they just left me lying there, strapped to a bed, leaving me to stare at the ceiling. Not that there was anything to look at.

What a concept.

I guess I developed that from him. That bastard of a man. What a shame… why would you walk when you could run? It's a concept, ya think?

So you're probably asking me right now, how did I know the walls were concrete? Well, simple answer really, I was awake when they put me there. I heard their footsteps and how they echoed and scuffed, the way vibrations would get trapped in its crannies or bounce off. You know, those were the last things I heard until they came and got me. Footsteps, murmurs, and grunts.

I had tried a few times to make humming noises only to figure out that they didn't work because of the sedative, yeah, White Coats don't tell us what's in the stuff they give us. It's a kind of a, I hope I don't die from this, kind of thing.

Yeah, oh.

I remember being awake because I could feel the stiffness of my wings, the ache between my shoulders, and my eyes going dry from not blinking. The deafening silence followed me from my state of consciousness and into my sleep, I could no longer tell the difference, just like how I lost track of night and day.

My breathing was so slow because of that sedative; I couldn't recall when I last breathed. I could never hear my breath, no matter how much I tried to sigh.

Three and a half weeks I was in there, three and a half. I drove myself mad, counting the invisible tiles, coming up with schemes of escape, how to build a bomb out of the most dangerous elements. I even balanced chemical equations out of boredom. But after a while, I could no longer think of those things. It was like my mind's own voice had worn itself out. I could no longer hear myself think and I forgot how to think but I kept breathing

I think breathing was the only that kept me alive until I heard the first footfalls coming towards the room… It was Jeb who saved me from that room… Jeb…

But he couldn't save me from that summer. After all, it was caused because he left. The E-shaped house in all its glory was so sad as we watched Jeb being taken away by White Coats and erasers, beaten and worn from our fight.

Angel was four and hardly understood anything that was going on except for the grave faces everyone wore because she wouldn't make a sound, she wouldn't say a word even though she had recently learned new ones. Gasman held onto me, and followed me like puppy dog, only because I was the closest guy to his age, that, and I had just turned twelve. Nudge… she was silent too… a talker even back then. I mistook her as a lump sometimes when I felt around the house. Fang, it was like his feet never touch the ground, he never disrupted the air, he never breathed air, and he seemed more invisible than anything. I could never sense him nearby; he was like a ghost, the quietest ghost in the world. And Max, she held us so tightly together, I didn't need to see to know that.

Max cradled Gasman and Angel tightly in her arms every day. She told stories and lullabies. She even sang songs from the radio everyone liked. But when she wasn't in front of everyone and away from prying eyes (I don't count), her aura would change and I could sense the waves of sadness rolling off at ten fold. She kept so strong to keep us from falling apart. The only thing I did was learn to cook better.

On afternoons during that summer, Max would convince Gasman to leave my side and go with her and Angel on a walk. They would go to the wild strawberry bushes all the time. It was then I felt so trapped. The only noise I ever heard in that house came from the pots and Max. But I don't cook when Max is out of the house. Nudge doesn't move and Fang's not even there… well he is but he isn't. It becomes so silent the deafening silence sets in.

It's so loud that it saturates the air, leaving it stagnant and suffocating. It would become so thick at time I believed I was back in that room, bound by leather straps again.

* * *

Even though the sun is beating down on me, I can't feel it. 

Adieu  
_** Nightwing**_


	3. Chapter 3

Wah! Buy me Transformers anything! OMG! I love the movie so much! I'm a big Transformers fan if you want to know, it was the first ever movie I saw back when I could barely think. Wah! I wanna see it again!

**To My Goth Faerie:** Taking A bath?

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_**Chapter 3 **_

* * *

I have a blue marble.

No one knows about it in the flock except for me. Even Angel doesn't know… it's just that special.

It has an inch diameter, yes; it's a large marble. But when you hold it up to the sun… wow. The sun shines so brightly through it that a part of the marble turns white and then blue shines over my face. I love to hold it between my thumb and middle finger when I point it to the sky.

And a few months ago, almost a year, I had every intention of throwing it away. You know why? We found out Jeb was working with the White Coats. I trusted Jeb, I trusted him a lot, probably more than Max did, 'course, I never did want to become his son.

He gave me that marble.

He gave it to me because he always saw I was afraid. I remember that day, it was an exact year before the surgery, I remember that… you might already know this but the rooms that we're stuck in our crates for, it's dark in there. I was terrified of the dark then, I didn't know I'd be stuck with it.

But Jeb saw that I was scared and I remember him taking me out of the crate that day, telling the scientists that he was running tests when he really just brought me to the roof of the School. I couldn't fly away, if you're thinking I could, my wings were clipped for the meantime so I couldn't exactly launch off. He led me to the edge of the roof and then we leaned against the railing, staring at the setting sun. I remember that sun, it was magnificent with its golden hue.

"Here." Jeb told me, holding out a closed hand towards me. I cocked my head in confusion but I held my hand out. Jeb dropped the large marble into my hand, beaming. It was blue and took up a majority of my hand. I looked at Jeb confused about it. "It's a sun catcher." He told me, his eyes bright. He grasped my hand that held the marble and held it to the sun. "See, when you hold it to the sun, it'll catch all of the sun's warmth and light and when you get scared that it's dark in that room just pull it out and squeeze it and you can think of the sun."

When I was little, I believed that lie he told me. And that night, I wasn't afraid, I held that marble close and I remembered how the sun felt against my face and slept peacefully. And whenever I got to be outside in the sun, I told myself that I was recharging the sun catcher's batteries and those batteries would last for weeks on end.

What a fool I was… or rather… what a fool I am. I still believe it's a sun catcher even though I know that it's not. When no one's looking I always hold that marble out to the sun when I feel the warmth on my face, and let the marble take in the sun.

But it's comforting to know that the sun can never really be taken from you.

The sun is rising as my watch ends and I hold the marble high into the sky from the lip of our cave, I pressed it gently between my thumb and middle finger. The sun catches it, I know, for I can feel the warmth of the rays coming off that marble and I can imagine myself looking right through it at the white spot that will reflect a sea like blue on my face.

* * *

I want a marble like that... I have yellow ones and red ones, just not blue... T.TAdieu  
_**Nightwing**_  



	4. Chapter 4

So there are two things I would like to say: Sorry this took so long to get out, I was having trouble with it, I really just finished this a few minutes ago. And Two: I got my Driver's License! I know, I know, the legally blind person gets to drive... I swear nothing bad'll come of this.

To my Goth Faerie: So as stated above, I can drive! But you see, I'm lacking a car... what a bummer...

* * *

_**Chapter 4 **_

Vain

* * *

I can pretend to be many things. I can pretend to be Mr. Teddy for Angel when she wants to play house with Celeste. I can pretend to be in command when Max and Fang are off doing who knows what, I can pretend guys, I pretend very well. 

I can pretend that it didn't hurt when Max ordered me to stay behind when they went to rescue Angel. I can pretend that it doesn't hurt when people look down on me because I'm blind.

The one thing I can do, over everything else, I can pretend to be vain.

My sightless eyes will look down on everything even though I am trembling with anxiousness and fear because I know that I am not better than everyone. I hold my head high, pretending to not hear the words they say.

I pretend that I don't feel their gaze on me and instead pretend to ignore their existence.

"Watch where you're going stu- oh, you're blind, sorry." A voice reached my ears of a female that was shorter than me, I felt her head bounce off my chest. I held my head high. "Aren't you going to say something?" She was waiting for me to respond.

"Iggy, come on!" Max's voice carried out through the crowd.

"Why do I have to say anything? After all, you were the one who was wrong." The cold words obviously hurt her. I brushed past the female hearing her mutter 'selfish jerk' before joining the flock.

"Not that you don't already have blank eyes but right now, they're really cold." Max pointed out to me. "Hate the noise?" Another person brushed past me in the darkness I was surrounded in. I nodded and looked away. It wasn't the noise that bothered me, no, it was that everyone around me was so vain they didn't notice I was blind, yeah I don't carry around a walking stick or have a seeing eye dog, so what?

I had hoped, when we had found my parents, that they could _know_ me, they could _understand_ me. They wouldn't be bothered that I was blind, that I was a freak. But they had wanted to parade it around, the blind kid who could fly, all for freaking money.

A sudden tug on my hand made me realize I had stopped walking, the warmth and pulse belonged to Fang's, his fingertips made me register his face. The hand's grip tightened, urging me to hurry up.

And suddenly I collided with something. Fang's grip released and I heard Max gasp faintly over the roar of the crowd. A clatter of a stick -a long one at that- as it fell to the concrete. "I'm sorry," A young female voice reached my ears, it was gentle and fearful. "It's so hard to hear in this street." Her words held a tentative smile in them and I sensed worry in her voice. "Do you know where my stick is, can you help me find it?"

"She's blind." Fang uttered under his breath, so low that I could barely hear it. My eyes widened in shock, how could I be vain to her when she is denied sight just like me.

"Yeah," My voice cracked in a hoarse voice, my long fingers tracing over the sidewalk with ease, "it is hard to hear, I don't know where anything is."

"Oh!" I sensed evident surprise and I wondered what her expression was. "You're blind too, do you need to find your walking stick because I can find mine, I'll be fine."

"I don't use a walking stick." I replied, my fingers brushed over an object, it was her hand. I withdrew mine quickly, a blush creeping onto my cheeks, I could hear her blood rushing, so she was too.

"A seeing eye dog then." She stuttered the beginning of her sentence.

"No." There was a laughter in my voice, it surprised me. It's so strange, not being cold to an outsider, someone who wasn't part of the flock, but they _knew_ me… they _understood _me for what I was. Blind.

"Oh?" My fingers grabbed a thin pole as she spoke. "How do you know where to go?"

"Belt loops," I said honestly, I could feel confusion radiating off of her. "I have a big family and we're always together so I just hang on and listen. Here you go." I handed the stick and her fragile, uncalloused hands traced mine, her fingertips were engraved into my memory, if I ever met her again, I would know.

I heard her pull herself up before she whispered a soft thank you and goodbye for Fang lifted me up from the busy sidewalk. "New girlfriend?" Max asked.

"Not a chance." I replied, sensing Max's tease.

I became numb again as people bumped into me at a constant, wondering how much they didn't care because they thought I was an ordinary Joe. I will be as vain to the people who are vain themselves but how can I be vain to those who see with their heart and not their eyes?

I laughed bitterly to myself, a finger hooked onto Fang's belt loop, my mind replaying words that would never leave:

It's a concept.

_Don't you think?_

* * *

It came to me the other day but I could never put this into words... You see, I can be oh so vain too... but I can be that fragile girl with the walking stick... the worried smiles always so afraid because of the fact of what she is. 

P.S. Is it just me (because I don't check that often) or are there a lot more people doing Iggy POV's?

Adieu  
_**Nightwing**_


	5. Chapter 5

Another chapter, this tells you I'm procrastinating. Two homeworks and two tests tomorrow. I need to write three paragraphs in spanish, and find realism in nature, and do the precal from yesterday and today. And aww fudge monkeys! I didn't practice my oboe T.T so not good. I'll finger through tonight.

So please enjoy.

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Chapter Five

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I am not noticeable. 

I am an annoyance, I know that well.

I'm blind so I can make ironic jokes, heck, I can make jokes all the time because no one will blame me if they're harsh and cruel or even if they're overly corny. They won't blame me for what I am.

Because of what I am, I am given space and yet no space at all. The watch over me, waiting for me to tumble so they can rush to pick me up like a baby learning to walk; and then they give me so much room with no one around it makes me wonder where I am sometimes.

I've read the Max Ride books ya know, well not read but you get the idea. I'm easily explained by four characteristics: blind, my hair, supernatural hearing, and making bombs.

Other than the making bombs part, I'm pretty boring, aren't I? No one takes a second look at the blind kid, red hair means an Irish drunkard who can't get off his butt, and my supernatural hearing, only slightly better than the rest of the Flock's.

I have to work hard to get attention because there are six of us and it's because there are many of us there is always someone who is ignored for the most part. It's like the middle child thing for those who have an older sister/brother and younger bro or sis. I'm border line command and flock, borderline little kid and young adult, and like before, I can and will be left behind due to a stupid disability.

But it's kind of funny that I am the most noticeable and yet not noticeable out of all of us. The red hair sticks out like a sore thumb but there are times I am more silent than Fang, I can easily fade into the background because that's what I'm trying to figure out without sight, the background.

It's like with music, the lyrics are great, the guitar and drums, you can spot it in an instant but the bass, the power of the bass hiding behind the guitar is so great and I guess that's the important part, the background.

Sometimes I just want to fade into it, unable to be found but at the same time I want people to see me, like the lucky penny on the ground. Because after all, who isn't lucky to have me?

White Noise.

That's what New York was like, that's what school was like. All the non-stop chattering, the non stop traffic. I could hear everything and nothing, it hurt my ears and at the same time not at all.

I don't think I'm making any sense. About how I want to be seen and not seen at all. It's a blind thing, you simply wouldn't understand. To see, to be seen, is something that I really want because I lack the sight to see. And then, I guess, because I do lack the sight, I want everyone else to not see. I suppose it's just because I'm jealous.

But I guess you'll have to deal with it 'cause I'm not that good at explaining things. You see, that's because the only things I can explain is the School and you know well that I don't want to talk about that.

So how's your life? Probably better than mine, I mean, you have a nice cozy home, you're reading this on the internet, there's no talking dog who really wants to use your backpack as his new rock collection hiding place, and there are probably no Erasers chasing after you.

Sounds nice. Don'tcha think?

Oh hey, it's almost my shift, lets see how many owls are out tonight.

Later.

* * *

So... yeah... whatcha think? 

Adieu  
**_ Nightwing_**


	6. Chapter 6

God, Daniel's rubbing off on me, ridiculous? I haven't used that word in forever!

* * *

**_Chapter 6_**

* * *

I hate video games. 

You know the ones you can play in the hotel and you just pay for them afterwards? I hate those. And the ones at the game shops, those too.

It doesn't matter what type of game console or game. I hate it. Emphasis on the hate.

It's bad enough my five senses have been limited to four but to one?! That'a utterly ridiculous.

When I'm fighting I can smell the rancid stench of an Eraser, taste copper on my tongue, feel their hairy skin, and hear the distant yells of the flock. And when it comes to video games, I'm utterly lost.

I don't know where I am. I hear the sounds of gunfire and I know it emits from the TV but I think someone's shot the window. The vibration of the controller confuses me so I end up turning it off and rely on the sight. I can't feel the gravel crunching beneath my feet, nor the wind in my face, nor the feel of a gun beneath my fingers. I can't smell a scent so horrible I could taste it. Video games rely on two things, sound and sight, and I hate it.

I hear every kid my age raving on and on about Halo or Kingdom Hearts or some other thing or another and it's annoying. Total loves to play video games, even more reason to be annoyed with that egotistical dog.

But I shouldn't hate just because people like things that I can't. It's really the only time Fang talks now 'cause he plays Halo too. He tells me of the characters and he says it with such enthusiasm that I wonder if it's really Fang talking to me.

When he describes the graphics I can almost imagine the battle. It's kinda cool, the only thing that dampers that is the fact that I can't see any of it to begin with. Three cheers for imagination, whoot!

So other than Fang being un-Fang-like and Total being a bigger prat than usual when it comes to these games I guess they aren't so bad because when you hear someone randomly die it's kinda funny. "Hey, who's there-urk!" Haha, it gets me every time.

So yeah, I guess I'm not supposed to encourage video games so… stay in school, don't do drugs, don't stay up past three playing games but seven is okay. Okay, who am I kidding, I don't go to school and I rather poison your minds than let them grow so play video games, build bombs, and… and… and… challenge Total to Metal Gear Solid!

I guess I should say that I really don't hate video games that I just find it irksome that I can't play… I guess… but I do hate them 'cause I can't see them and I can't play them. I just find it really funny when someone randomly dies.

* * *

I watch my Dad play video games and when I had to babysit my sister's (older) friends they played Metal Gear Solid and tried not to get killed so many times it was hillarious. So, I can't stand playing video games (I lack the attention span) but I love watching people play it but even then, Iggy can't. 

So... how'd this one go?

Adieu  
_** Nightwing**_


	7. Chapter 7

Genetics update, that's always fun, I've been going for three years straight, it's fun but only once a year. Sam Rhine, look it up. (Ps. I do not own Sam Rhine, it'd be weird if I did)

* * *

**_Chapter 7_**

* * *

I wonder, what genes was I born with? 

A couple of days ago the flock and I snuck into something called a 'genetics update' with this famous college dude whose name reminded me of a rhinoceros. For the longest time he talked about cancer this and cancer that and the genes that made it. It was cool to listen to, he was very clear that 'All cancer _is_ genetic, most cancers are **_not_** inherited.' It's sporadic, I think is what he said.

It was weird, you know the kind of weird I'm talking about, the amazed weird because you're so fascinated but at the same time you're lost weird because you begin to wonder who you are and where you came from… no? Well maybe that's just the flock –minus Max of course– and maybe Total. (I never learned my family history, it was just SOOO annoying.)

At one point they were talking about the recessive genes and mutations, after all it's a mutation that causes cancer, and they were saying if your genes were heterozygous then one hit (one mutation) in the eye could cause you to go blind in that eye, two hits if you were homozygous with dominant gene. Of course it's only retinoblastoma, look it up, it's a cancer in your eye that can go to your brain then bam! You're dead. Well, that's only if you don't get it taken care of right away… I mean it's really really rare so I don't really expect you to have it. But you know… I wondered -while that rhinoceros guy explained it- if I had it. I mean it's mostly found in little kids and when I had that operation my eyes were already hurting… It's rare enough to get a hit in one eye but in both? What if my genes are heterozygous and the White Coat's were actually trying to save me? Heaven forbid they lose a pyrotechnic experiment.

If all cancers are genetic and I inherited it, who'd I get it from? My Mom or Dad? Even more so, what caused the mutation? I mean, yeah I know I'm a mutant with wings, I can't help that, but would bird genes cause a mutation in my eye? Or was it the bird genes that gave me the recessive gene? Or maybe it was the bird genes that gave me a dominant one so I could see for a bit… Who knows?

Of course, that's all just a 'what if?'

Oh, yeah, scary thought here, so the rhinoceros guy told us the government has all of our genes on file. The government **OWNS** us, dude… why does the man own us? We should totally bring the man down. So... would I be on that file? I mean Itex really isn't a government funded company and I don't think they like avian hybrids…

The last thirty minutes were the most interesting; he began talking about clones. He said it was very hard to create a clone, Dolly took around 800-900 tries I think, 841 if I'm thinking right. Kinda makes you wonder, how many tries for that Max clone? My guess, over a thousand tries, seriously, who would _**want**_ a clone of her? She's stubborn enough by herself and they're trying to clone her with just as stubborn DNA.

He started talking about cloning a cell, creating cells from your own DNA to make up in what you're lacking in a sense. Diabetes? No problem, we'll make you some insulin cells right now. Parkinson's? Again, we'll just clone it. But they're still developing ways… it'd be kinda cool if everyone stayed healthy 'cause we're still trying to save the world (and everyone on it) and all…

* * *

A quick summary of what happened. My Dad has diabetes, we don't think of it much but it's just something I think would make it easier for us. No more "I can't have that, too much sugar." or "I can't have that, it has aspratame, I'm allergic." I thought of Iggy during this conference, right when they were talking about these genes, and I wondered, so I want you to wonder too... 

link: htt p://w ww .retinobla stoma. net/wh atisr b. html

Adieu  
**_Nightwing _**


	8. Chapter 8

A very short chapter for a very short time. I needed to update something in between my hectic life, stress reliever if you will. I'm working on a surprise project for you guys no one knows except for my beta. And gasp! I actually have a beta for the surprise! So FYI, Jeff Schmidt is a real person in my school, the band president in fact but hey, his name is so freaking cool. Right Schmidty? Oh yeah, auditions, I screwed up. Whoops. I found my pokemon game for my 64 and my cousin interrupted me playing it. Dang.

* * *

**_Chapter 8_**

_My name is Schmidty_

* * *

How cool would it be if my name was Jeff Igmiester Schmidt? People would call me Schmidty and I'd be awesome, not that I'm not already awesome. I look like a Jeff, right? With my totally awesome hair and blah blah blah…

But that's sorta besides the point. Not really and really really. The flock and I are deciding our official names, what'll be put down if we ever get birth certificates and what not. Max doesn't want to be Maxine so I offered Helga. That was a beating all in itself; I'm not gonna say how bad it was so lets just say I'm not sitting down for the next week or so. No one can take a joke these days.

In all honesty I'd call Angel, Alice. Not 'cause they start with A's but 'cause Alice is mischievous, the devilish mind reader… whoops. But if anything else I'd call her Nicollet 'cause it sounds innocent, pfft, Angel innocent. Angel's thinking along the lines Ashley or Jessica; I, on the other hand, vote Alice or Nicollet, what say you?

Fang is Nick, there's no way he's changing it. I tried to get him to go for Jake or even Hayden but I think he wants to stick to one syllable. Nudge said he should be named something foreign like Armando guacamole salad, nah just kidding. But she's serious about Armando. Then again we could always call him: Plain Ol' Joe. Joe for short.

Gasman would be what? Luke? What's something dangerous? Oh! We could give him an Arabian name and see everyone panic when they hear his name! 'Kay, no offense to the readers out there, I'm just poking fun. You know, I want to call him Jack The Ripper. Get it? Gasman as the Ripper? Nevermind. Maybe I'm just horrible at puns.

Nudge, I'm not going to go into detail, she has this seven word name planned out but all I'd just call her Piper. Talkative Piper. Yep, that works, what do you think?

And now we're back to Helga, I mean Max. Yeah… Max. Would be…? Emily… I'd call her Emily surprisingly enough. Max is too strong of a name so what better way to make her girly and toned down than Emily. Or Samantha… Sam can be strong but Samantha is toned down like Emily. The leader, after all, doesn't always have to be strong.

Now back to me, as if that wasn't demanding, what do you think my name should be? Personally I like Jeff Igmiester Schmidt but I'm willing for a good argument. I dare you to call me Jacob or something like Inigo Montoya. Ha. Or Pascual or however you spell it. So seriously… what should my name be? And even more importantly, should I put on one of those fake black moustaches for my passport picture?

* * *

So what should his name be? Wish me luck on my interview(s)! Oh! And you missed out on an amazing Steel Drum concert aka I got a bass solo! Now that's hard to pull off in itself.

Adieu  
**_Nightwing_**


	9. Chapter 9

I've missed Iggy. Actually the flock has left my mind so it's hard for me to pin their characters and voices in my head. I'm reading Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment again to remember and I remember Iggy. I remember Max and Fang but not as much as I remember Iggy. I have Iggy back, his voice is loud, clear, and oh so boisterous! ha ha, I've missed Iggy. It's like the side of you that you've been missing is suddenly beside you again, it's fun. It's a concept, right?

* * *

_**Chapter 9**_

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I'm a little tired, my wings are itching to fly. The flock hasn't flown in weeks due to this bird flu going around. It's not the real one, don't get me wrong, but it's a nasty bug. Max has it right now with Angel, they sound like they're coughing up lungs. It's gruesome 'cause, you know, it takes a lot for us to get sick.

Nudge caught this mess three weeks ago and passed it onto me five days later, it got to Gasman and now Angel and Max. But, you know, Fang hasn't caught it and we doubt he ever will, the jerk. It makes you wonder what keeps dark and gloomy ticking, he hardly needs sunlight, feed him twice a week, make sure he has plenty of water, boy he's a cross between a plant and snake! I'm kidding, a little avian humor for ya. He might as well be a plant he doesn't move from Max's side it's almost like he's planted there. Ha, get it? But I guess that's whatcha get for being in love with a girl.

"Iggy it's cold outside, close the door." Fang's voice seemed to echo as I stood out on the porch. Max and Angel had just fallen into a fitful sleep and faithful Fang decided to find me. Joy.

"Are you staying in or out?" I asked, not really caring. It was obvious he wanted to talk, which is strange in itself, but if he wanted to talk he'd have to come outside.

"This isn't good for you, you just got over the flu." Fang chided quietly closing the door behind him and standing beside me on the porch. He was shivering slightly making his movements less graceful and less quiet, he must've forgotten to wear a jacket.

"It doesn't matter." I shrugged, regretting it instantly. My wings ached, wanting to stretch out and fly into the night I couldn't see. "Don't become dear old Dad just 'cause Mommy has a flu of her own." I bit my lip, that came out a lot harsher than I meant…

"Dear old Dad? You must be sick." Fang croaked. Fang's never croaked before. Maybe he's the one who's sick… "Would you like to go for a flight?"

"We're both on duty, Fang, you watch the sick kids, I watch for danger. 'This is not a time and a place for fun' as Max would say."

"You and I both know this is the most rest we've gotten in the past three weeks. You fighting off the flu, you cooking food for the flock, being on watch, helping Gasman when he was sick…"

"While you've been making sure we haven't been discovered by the White Coats, wherever they are, you're finding food for the flock, when I'm not on watch you're on watch, and when you're not on watch you're doing all those things and more… We deserve a break."

"But we can't." His monotone voice sounded strangled towards the end.

"And there you go saying we should have the time of our lives and turn around and say we can't." I smiled grimly at him. He shifted his weight before sitting at the edge of the porch, I followed the suit.

"What do we do?" Fang asked me. Wait, Fang asking me what to do? Doesn't he usually have all the answers? Isn't it Max who asks him that?

"Take it a day at a time." I responded before my mind could think.

"Impossible." Fang laughed quietly. I could imagine the bags around his eyes, they should be bigger than usual, he should be as high strung as I am, and nervous to boot. I mean he's paranoid Fang, he's never exactly had a relaxing moment… There was a faint whooshing sound, Fang had thrown his head back to look at the sky.

"Improbable." I corrected just as quietly. "Oftentimes we have a set goal to do for that day and we don't often get through it because the whole flock goes into instinct mode 'survive'. And in a way that's how we take it a day at a time, if we can survive this day we can survive the next and who knows, maybe we can add something to our plate for that day…"

"Like saving the world, battling Erasers, dodging bullets, near suicides, etc.?"

"Don't sound too much like Max, Fang, you might just turn into her." I chuckled. "We need to take it a day a time, today might not be our day, tomorrow might not be either, but what happened yesterday is yesterday and what will happen tomorrow is the future all we have and all we can do is today and before you know it, it'll be our day again."

"I don't pick you for the philosophical type."

"I'm not." I grinned. "I heard it in a song." I heard the front door open, so he was back to normal… Fang, the teen who made no sound…

"Get some rest," his quiet voice drifted out to me, "tomorrow we'll go flying." My wings perked at the word.

"Because he knows tomorrow will be our day." I muttered to myself with a smile. He couldn't know but then again, he's Fang.

And guess what?

Max and Angel were both well enough to move locations that morning.

Looks like we're going flying after all.

* * *

..

* * *

It's like an interlude of sorts, a calming yet mildly stressful moment in Iggy's life.

Adieu  
_**Nightwing**_


	10. Chapter 10

Hey Nightwing here! Sorry I've been gone for so long but I'll be gone for another duration of time. I've been busy as an art student drawing and studying my brains out like you won't believe. I'm also writing three separate novels that won't be posted on here 'cause I'm hoping I can edit them enough to publish. Hopefully. I have a lot of dreams going on right now, especially my priority of joining a Pixar course this summer, not to mention exactly what's going on in this chapter. Iggy's been very quiet in my mind lately but he does like the sweets I made last week. :)

Please enjoy!

* * *

**_Chapter 10_**

* * *

Have you ever been the last hope? The person people placed all their burdens on? You probably have some point in your life, just like I have. I remember when I could still see, it wasn't always that dark, the School I mean. There used to be a part of me that liked the School 'cause they had treated me well from time to time 'cause I had become their last hope.

How did I become that last hope? That's obvious 'cause all the hope they had in the ones before me had failed, Max and Fang including. It's not that they were incompetent or obsolete but at that time Max and Fang could no longer do things the School deemed worthy. Max would fight against the White Coats and Fang would mindlessly always follow Max so the two failed together. Nudge had no potential for useful powers and Angel and the Gasman had not been born yet. So I was left, a four year old who was encouraged kindly when the others weren't around.

I remember when they first began relying everything on me when I was four. I was pulled aside one day as Max and Fang were sent for more tests. Two large hands gripped me hard, shaking me as they crouched down to my level. They still towered over me and I remember being frightened by the man's scowl. "Don't make the same mistakes they did." The man seethed and I knew he was talking about Max and Fang. "You do and all of you will be left to rot in those cages without food for the rest of your miserable life." I nodded mutely, knowing all I had to do was not become like Max and Fang. Those two did not want to merely survive, they wanted to live.

I later learned it wasn't the matter of living or surviving the School, it was the matter of saving the world and Max was no longer capable of learning how to. So they trained me at night, taught me the things I needed to know and when they hurt me, they told me it was only an act in front of the rest of the flock. Of course they didn't completely give up on Max and Fang, they tried forcing them to learn from their mistakes in tests, they tried everything so I didn't have to become the last hope. But it all failed.

Every day I was reminded by those somber looks that I was left. I could not disappoint, not 'cause of the threat but 'cause I had to prove them wrong. Every somber look told me they thought I'd turn out just like Max and Fang and even as a tiny kid I was hurt 'cause they had lobbed me with the others before I had the chance to truly show myself. They pulled me aside often to remind me Max and Fang were mistakes and though I agreed with them I silently knew that was truly the case. Max and Fang were good like me, they still are.

So I tried hard not to disappoint, the burdens they placed on me made it hard to move forward but I did it regardless even if it felt like I was going nowhere. I didn't hate those two for making me the last chance, not even in the slightest. I just wished they truly saw how much it burdened me. I lost sleep at night, listening to other experiments scream all 'cause so much was going through my mind from what I had to achieve. The desperation to prove I was not a failure, the stress and effort to keep the pressure from consuming me, the ache from a body that could not rest despite the amount of work they had put in.

I was succeeding, proving my point that I was not a failure but I always felt like I wasn't doing enough, that I could never do enough. There would always be the disappointment of the others and I could not erase that but I wished I could.

I wasn't always that obedient to the White Coats either. 'cause I still had faith in Max and Fang I followed their actions for the most part when I was with them. I guess, though at the time I wasn't truly aware, there could have been a balance between the two. I fought and bit from time to time and laid on the sarcasm and curiosity to Dinky to the extent that he hated me. You guys already know that story.

There was a chance to erase the White Coats' disappointment and they used me, the one who had yet to truly let them down and would hopefully become their last hope not 'cause I was the last but 'cause they no longer had to look for another hope and another. Have you ever wondered why I was the one who became blind and not Max or Fang? Well, that's why. That chance was to improve my eyesight and I failed obviously. I regretted disappointing them at the time but right now it doesn't feel that bad. Of course I still hate being blind but the burden was lifted and I was free to do what I wanted. Well in the confines of the School and under a White Coats' watch but that's beside the point.

Apparently Max was aware of what they were doing to me even if she revealed it after Jeb left. She did it when it became my sole job to cook 'cause no one else could, Max told me she was reminded of the School and how she caused all that pressure onto me. I didn't argue, I mean she was right, but that pressure was gone now 'cause I didn't have to live up to any standards. Max said she regretted placing such pressure on my shoulders but I reminded her it's all under the bridge. All that pressure is worthless now.

At the school before I became blind I was always being compared to Max and Fang where their successes would haunt me and their failures would cause the White Coats to say, "Don't you dare become like them." Here, in this flock, there's nothing to compare to. I'm the only one who can cook, who can be amazing even though I'm blind, who taught the Gasman to build bombs, and can pick a lock in under fifteen seconds. New record, aren't you proud of me? Yeah, I thought so too.

I'd be lying if I said Max and Fang's gallivanting back in the School never bothered me but I don't regret being the White Coats' pawn. It's a fuzzy memory now and a secret experience in my life but there's still one part of me that still carries a similar pressure. I will always be compared to those two, you know how it goes with siblings, and attempting to measure up to them nowadays is impossible. I may be closest to their age but 'cause of my 'disability' I'm considered as 'the rest of the flock' and not one of the 'older kids' or 'co-leader'.

I guess it isn't much of a secret experience now, Max will probably read this later and say, "Iggy, I didn't know you hated us!" Which of course means she misread something again. You can't trust her with a map you know, if we give her a map and tell her to go north we'll go southwest. And I also guess what I'm trying to say is don't let the pressure get to you if you have it. Prove them wrong if they think you'll amount to nothing but know there's a balance between being yourself and being someone else to please another. The pressure might be suffocating now but it'll get better. It always does. And if you don't believe me and say it's only going to get worse then I'll give you some advice Jeb told me when he had to break my arm again after a fight with Max where she broke my arm and it healed too quickly: **_It has to get worse before it gets better._** Just like when you hit rock bottom the only place left to go is up.

That was a valuable not so secret experience now, wasn't it? I didn't think so either.

* * *

.

* * *

I felt like this a pessimistic thing for Iggy to write about. He doesn't regret it but he doesn't exactly like what he did either. I bet he feels like this was a worthless thing to write about 'cause he doesn't know if anyone knows this experience or even wants to learn about it. I dunno, somehow I knew Iggy would write something like this if such a situation was placed in his life. There is always more to a person than meets the eye.

Well this was fun! I'd like to talk with anyone if they'd like to PM me, I don't usually answer my e-mails... sorry. It was nice to be on here again.

Adieu  
**_Nightwing_**


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